


what's there to talk about

by FagurFiskur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Needs A Hug, F/M, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Lonely Dean, M/M, POV Outsider, Pre-Series, Sam Finds Out, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12702600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: Dean has a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> expect the second chapter later today or tomorrow and the last one shortly after that. tags will be added as appropriate

Dean has a friend.

It’s weird. Sam can’t remember the last time Dean made friends at a new school. He has girlfriends all the time but that’s not really the same thing.

It’s not like Dean can’t make friends. Sam’s seen him do it plenty of times, easily. People like Dean. It’s always been one of the things Sam envies the most about him (not that he’d ever tell him). But Dean doesn’t like people, at least not other guys, and hasn’t for a couple of years.

So what’s so different about this guy?

From what Sam can tell, he’s a dick. He wears a leather jacket, like Dean, except his isn’t way too big and obviously passed down from his dad. He’s got greasy, shoulder-length hair, and he’s always smoking. His name is _Tyler_. Everyone named Tyler is a dick, that’s just scientific fact.

He also always calls Sam _Sammy_ , and ruffles his hair when he greets him. Dean does that too, but he’s Sam’s brother. Tyler is just some guy who Dean inexplicably decided was worth hanging out with.

Sam doesn’t get it.

 

They’re staying at an apartment this time, not a motel room. Dad’s gonna let them stay until the end of the semester, though he’s not around much, constantly off on hunts.

It’s honestly better when he’s gone, because there’s only one bedroom in this apartment and when he’s here, Sam and Dean both sleep in the living room. At least when he’s gone, Sam gets the living room to himself. Dean takes the bedroom, of course, and whenever Tyler comes over they lock themselves in there. Sam’s not sure what they’re doing, but there’s usually music playing, and they always come out smelling like smoke.

He tries seeing what they do, once, but when he peeks through the keyhole the key is in the way. Then Dean rips the door open, like he somehow knew Sam was outside, and tears him a new one for spying.

“I wasn’t spying,” Sam protests. “Why are _you_ sneaking around? Are you drinking?”

Dean grabs him by the shoulders, and steers him out into the living room. Sam tries to dig his heels, but it’s no use. Dean is way stronger than him.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean tells him. “We’re not doing anything you need to worry about. Now go do your homework, nerd.”

Sam does go do his homework, but just because it needs doing, not because Dean told him to.

 

Sam’s class gets assigned a group project for English. Most of his classmates have been ignoring him since he got here, so he ends up with the other outcasts, two guys named David and Noah. They decide to meet at the library after school.

Dean usually walks him home, even though Sam is _thirteen years old_ and can be trusted to walk down the street by himself, thank you very much. Sam should probably tell him he doesn’t need to today (not that he ever does), but he’s not in the mood. With Sam out of the way, Dean can just hang out with _Tyler_ some more.

So after the last bell of the day has rung, Sam ducks out of a side-entrance before Dean has any chance of spotting and following him. Despite that, he’s only been at the library with David and Noah for twenty minutes when Dean finds him.

“Shoulda known you’d be here.”

Sam turns around, startled. Dean is standing right there, looming over him with his arms crossed, and he looks _pissed_.

“We had a group project,” Sam says, but he knows it’s a weak excuse. He’s preparing to come up with a better one, when he spots Tyler leaning against a bookshelf a few feet away. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

Dean’s head swivels around. When he turns back to face Sam, his cheeks have turned pink. “Look, just get your ass home before dinner. And let me know where you’re going next time.”

He leaves with Tyler, and Sam is left feeling baffled. He expected Dean to drag him home or give him a lecture or something. Not for Dean to basically fold and let him be. He turns, and David and Noah are both looking at him with strange expression.

“Was that your brother?” Noah asks, and Sam should have known this was coming. If anyone ever cares who he is, it’s only as _Dean’s brother_. Because Dean is older, and cooler, and much more interesting than dorky Sam. “Is he seriously friends with Tyler Brooks?”

 _That_ catches Sam off guard. Who seriously cares about that dick Tyler? “I think so. Why?”

David and Noah exchange looks.

“It’s just…” David says. “There’s some rumors about Tyler.”

“What rumors?” 

“You sure you wanna know?”

Sam huffs, growing impatient. “Just tell me.”

“People think he’s a homo,” Noah blurts.

“ _Dude_ ,” David says. “You don’t just come out and say it.” He looks back at Sam, apologetic. “But, yeah, people do say that. Someone saw him giving another dude a blowjob in a Gas ‘N Sip bathroom.”

“I heard it was at a Burger King.”

Sam glances between them, shocked. That _can’t_ be why Dean… even if it’s true about Tyler, there’s no way Dean is like that. It just doesn’t fit. Dean likes _girls_.

“That’s just what people say,” Noah adds. “Maybe your brother hasn’t even heard.”

“Definitely not,” Sam says quickly. He doesn’t care about people spreading rumors about Tyler, but like hell is he gonna let Dean get caught up in that. He doesn’t deserve that, even if he has been a douche lately. “He would never hang out with him if he knew.”

That seems to appease David and Noah, and they get back to working on their project. Sam does his best to help out, but his mind is preoccupied. What if it’s true what they say about Tyler? _Does_ Dean know? And if he does, does he not care or is there something more to it?

Now that it’s been brought up, Sam can’t just let it go. He has to know for sure.

 

The next morning, Sam tells Dean he’ll be going to the library again after school.

He waits out back for thirty minutes after school lets out. That gives Dean and Tyler plenty of time to get back to the apartment, if that’s where they’re hanging out today, and then Sam can sneak in without them knowing and find out what they’re always doing by themselves.

Not that he’s expecting anything. Because Dean isn’t like that. But this way he’ll know for sure.

On his way home, Sam starts planning out how he’ll get a look into the bedroom. The keyhole won’t work, but maybe he could slide a mirror under the door or something? He’s seen people do it in movies.

He gets home, opening the door as quietly and carefully as he can, and finds out immediately that he doesn’t need a plan.

Dean and Tyler aren’t in the bedroom. They’re in the living room, on the couch where Dean sleeps when Dad is in town, and they’re kissing.

Sam freezes in the doorway. He didn’t make any noise, so they haven’t noticed him yet. Dean is lying down, Tyler on top of him, and they’ve got their hands all over each other. It’s such a surreal image that Sam can’t even process that it’s happening.

He takes a step back, pushing the door closed with a soft click, and Dean’s eyes immediately fly open. He sits up, pushing Tyler off him, not taking his eyes of Sam.

“What are you doing here?” he says. His face has gone completely pale. Sam hasn’t seen him looking so scared since Dad blew his gasket about a hunt Dean botched up. “You said you’d be at the library.”

Sam opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Dean and Tyler both stand up, Tyler looking between the two of them awkwardly, before saying, “I should go.”

Dean doesn’t protest. Tyler raises a hand towards him, then drops it. He grabs his jacket from the couch and shoulders his way past Sam, out the door. Leaving the two brothers by themselves, Dean staring at the floor and Sam staring at Dean.

“Why are you here?” Dean finally asks, still looking down at the floor instead of at Sam.

Sam swallows. Guilt and regret both twist in his gut, making him feel mildly nauseous. “I just wanted to see what you and- what you were doing.”

“Well.” Dean gives a hollow laugh and throws out his arms. “You saw.”

“Dean-”

“I’m gonna go take a nap,” Dean mutters.

He stalks to the bedroom before Sam can respond, slamming the door behind him.

 

Dean doesn’t come out until dinner time. Sam’s been sitting on the couch ( _not_ the one Dean and Tyler were on), trying and failing to do his homework. He looks up when Dean opens the bedroom door, but Dean doesn’t look his way.

He stalks into the kitchen, out of view, and Sam gets up to follow him. When he gets there, Dean's rooting through the cabinets, pulling out cans of soup.

“You hungry?” Dean asks, not turning around to face him.

“Yeah,” Sam says quietly.

He sits down at the table, feeling completely at a loss. He still can’t process what he saw. Seeing Dean right now, it’s like looking at a stranger. Sam just wishes he could take the whole past week back. That way, he’d never found out about Tyler and about Dean. It would have been better.

Dean reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a pot, which he puts down on the kitchen counter with a heavy slam. He pauses for a moment, then finally turns around to face Sam.

“You’re not gonna tell Dad, are you?”

“No,” Sam says, because that’s an easy question to answer. He has no idea how to handle this situation, but he at least knows that bringing Dad into it would be a bad idea.

Dean nods, looking relieved. “How about your friends?”

It takes Sam a moment to realize that Dean’s talking about David and Noah. “I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“Okay.” Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, good.”

“But they know about Tyler. Everyone does.”

Dean leans against the counter, looking very tired all of a sudden.

“You should stop hanging out with him,” Sam suggests carefully. “I mean, otherwise people are gonna talk about you too.”

Dean doesn’t answer. He goes back to making dinner, and Sam knows the conversation is over. They’re not gonna talk about this again.

 

Dean seems to take Sam’s advice, since Tyler stops hanging around. The only times Sam sees him after that is briefly in the halls at school, and then they both pretend not to see each other.

Dean gets a girlfriend. Her name is Jennifer. She’s blonde and pretty, and she lasts about a month. After her, there’s Charlotte, and then Katie, and then Tina.

Eventually, Sam convinces himself that Tyler was some aberration. Dean is clearly into girls; he’s way too much of a horndog to be faking it.

Still, he’s relieved when Dad comes back and says they’re moving. Once they’re in another state and Tyler is nothing but a memory they’ll be able to leave this all behind them. Dean can go back to being the person Sam’s always known him to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's some dean/cassie in this but it's so blink-and-you'll-miss-it that i didn't feel right tagging it

Tyler is the first guy Dean kisses and for a long time, he’s the only one.

Things could have gone a lot worse with him. Sam found out, sure, and it was one of the most terrifying moments of Dean’s life, but he never tells Dad about it and he doesn’t bring it up again.

Dean is pathetically grateful for his little brother being discreet about it. He doesn’t intend to push his luck like that again. Why go after guys when he’s way more into women anyway? It’ll spare him a lot of trouble if he just ignores that side of himself.

He manages to go five years doing just that.

Then Sam leaves.

It’s not completely unexpected – Dean saw the brochures – but it’s a blow to the gut anyway. Dean’s spent his whole life trying to keep his family from flying apart and all this time Sam’s been desperate to get away from them.

In a strange way, Dean is almost relieved when Dad ditches him too and starts sending him on solo hunts while he goes chasing after the Yellow Eyed Demon. At least this way there’s not anyone left to leave him.

It’s on his second solo hunt that Dean runs into Tom.

Tom’s a librarian and a witness to what Dean suspects to be a poltergeist attack. He raises his eyebrow at the FBI badge Dean presents him with but complies and answers all of his questions. After the interrogation, he asks Dean a question of his own.

“Are you sticking around after you wrap this case up?”

“Maybe overnight,” Dean says, wondering why this guy wants to know that.

Then Tom is stepping into his personal space, and Dean understands. “You should hit me up before you go.”

Dean stammers and makes some excuse to leave. It’s not until he’s by himself that he realizes – hey, he’s _by himself_. Not like Dad or Sam are ever gonna find out if he takes this guy up on his offer. And Tom is a good-looking guy, tall and lean, with dark eyes hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses.

The poltergeist is a bitch to get rid of by himself, but Dean eventually manages, getting away with minor bruises and a sprained ankle. He stumbles back to his motel room and falls asleep on top of the covers, and the last thing that goes through his mind before he passes out is Tom and those dark eyes of his.

He checks out of the motel the next morning and goes back to the library. Tom is sitting at the reception counter and when he spots Dean he smiles warmly.

Dean approaches him slowly, trying not to limp or put too much weight on the sprain. “I, ah, wrapped up the case.”

Tom’s smile slips into a knowing grin. “I see. So are you sticking around?”

“I checked out of the motel,” Dean says. He hesitates before biting the bullet and continuing, “But if anyone offered a bed, I could stay another night.”

“My shift is over at five,” Tom tells him.

“Okay.” Dean swallows. “Cool. I’ll see you then.”

 

The few solitary hours give Dean plenty of time to think and rethink his decision. Instead of indulging, he curls up in the Impala’s backseat with a beat-up copy of _The Man in the High Castle_ he found abandoned at a motel a few years back. At around two, Dad calls.

“You finish up the case yet?” is his greeting.

“I should be done tonight,” Dean says, and he barely feels guilty for lying. He’s earned a day’s vacation, whether Dad agrees or not.

“Let me know when you do. I got a call from Jim Murphy about a potential revenant outside of Algona that’s been causing car crashes.”

Dean nods sharply, before remembering that Dad can’t see him. “Right. Will do.”

Dad hangs up, and Dean’s left staring at the phone with guilt sinking in his gut. It’s another three hours before Tom finishes his shift, and after that there’s the entire night Dean planned on spending with him. What if the revenant kills someone in the meantime?  Dad might think Dean’s busy saving lives here, but Dean would know the truth. Those deaths would be on his conscience.

His mind made up, Dean gets out and into the front seat, slamming the Impala’s doors with no small sense of frustration. The vacation’s gonna have to wait until there are no lives hanging in the balance.

As he drives out of town, Dean spares a single guilty thought for Tom. But it’s probably for the best he didn’t stick around.

*

After Tom, it’s another few weeks until Dean finds himself being hit on by another man again.

He’s at a bar this time and he and Dad just finished up a hunt together. Dad opted out of the celebratory drink but Dean still has this leftover energy buzzing underneath his skin and it’s been a while since he got laid, so he figures he might as well try his luck.

He’s been nursing the same beer for twenty minutes when a guy catches his eye from across the bar. He winks when he sees Dean looking. Dean flushes pink, ducking his head, but curiosity gets the better of him and he raises his eyes to sneak another look.

The guy doesn’t really look gay. He’s built like a brickhouse and he’s got a five o’clock shadow that’s tipping into a full-on beard and thick, shoulder-length hair. Dean swallows, feeling a twinge of regret. Tyler had shoulder-length hair, too.

It’s that more than anything that makes him follow when the guy nods at him before getting up and heading towards the bathrooms.

Once Dean gets inside it looks empty, but one of the stall doors is tipped almost closed. Dean approaches it, heart beating wildly in his chest, and pushes it open. The guy from before smirks when he sees it’s Dean, and then he’s grabbing Dean’s arm and yanking him inside.

In less than a second, Dean has his back against the door and the guy pressed against his front, lips mauling his. It’s so sudden that Dean can’t even think about it, just react, kissing the guy back and surging into it when he rolls his hips against Dean’s.

They break apart, already a little breathless.

“I’m Dean,” Dean says, feeling uncomfortable about kissing someone who doesn’t even know his name.

“Ethan,” the guy says, and then they’re kissing again.

They don’t speak after that, not until Ethan’s pushed down their underwear and has both of their cocks in his grip, pumping them furiously as Dean pushes into it, groaning softly and telling him _more_.

It’s all over much too soon. Ethan wipes them both off with toilet paper after they’ve come and tucks Dean back into his jeans. He’s gone before Dean can do anything asinine like ask for his phone number.

*

After Ethan, Dean goes after pretty much anyone who catches his interest, man or woman. He decides not to take the risk of screwing around with a guy while Dad’s in the same town again, but otherwise he doesn’t hold back. There’s just no reason to. No one’s paying attention to what he’s doing, never mind who’s sharing his bed.

He meets Cassie, and entertains thoughts of settling down with her. She’s the third person he’s felt this way about, after Robin and Tyler, and the first since he was a stupid, idealistic teenager. He didn’t think he could be this optimistic anymore, and after two weeks Cassie proves why he shouldn’t be.

He spends an amazing weekend with Lisa the yoga instructor, and another several months later with a guy named Anthony who’s at least twice his age but an absolute tiger in the sack. He tries spanking with the appropriately named Dominique and wears women’s underwear for Rhonda Hurley. One guy wants to handcuff him but Dean turns him down flat. He doesn’t trust any of the people he sleeps with well enough to be tied down around them.

After Cassie, it’s always just about sex. People sometimes try to leave him their numbers but Dean always leaves them crumpled in a trashcan somewhere. It’s simpler that way.

Dean’s careful, but he does slip up once and brings a guy to his motel room even after Dad has called and said he’s heading Dean’s way. Dean is almost black-out drunk at the time and it’s Sammy’s birthday tomorrow, so he doesn’t think about what he’s doing until it’s too late.

Dad knocks on his door early the next morning, and Dean is startled awake. The guy he picked up is still in his bed, sleeping soundly, so Dean sneaks up to the door and opens it just a crack.

“I’ve got a hunt for us,” Dad says. Then he takes a step back, and actually looks at Dean. “Are you hung over?”

“Not so loud,” Dean whines, leaning against the doorframe in what he hopes isn’t a transparent attempt to block Dad’s view of the room behind him.

Dad notices, and draws the wrong conclusion. “You got a girl in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean lies. “I’ll wake her up and send her home.”

“Come see me when you’re done,” Dad says. “I’m in room 305.”

Dean nods and closes the door again, leaning his forehead against it and breathing a sigh of relief. In the bed, Rick – or was it Rich? – is still snoring softly.

He manages to sneak Rich (Rick?) out without Dad spotting him. As he sits down for a greasy breakfast and research with Dad, he makes a promise to himself to swear off men from now on. But in the end, it’s the same as with drinking – the resolve to quit only lasts about as long as the hangover.

*

Dean is offered money for sex, once.

He’s in a gas station bathroom when this greasy old trucker says he’s got dicksucking lips and tells him he’ll give him fifty bucks for a blowjob.

Dean says yes. Once the guy gets the bills out to count them he knees him in the balls, takes the money, and walks out.

It’s a dick move. But Dean is broke, and the guy had it coming.

*

He has a tendency to go for guys with shoulder-length hair. Dean tries not to read too much into it but the comparison is unavoidable.

Sometimes, he gets the urge to look Tyler up. To see if he ever got away from that town, made it someplace where everyone doesn’t know about his sex life and ostracizes him because of it. But the urge is usually fleeting, and Dean never gives in. Whatever answers he’d dig up it’s not like he could do anything about them.

It’s a lot more difficult not to look up Sammy, and Dean does give into that urge few times. He calls him every couple of months that first year he’s gone, but he’s usually drunk and after a while Sam learns to hang up when he realizes it’s Dean calling.

He only drops by Stanford once. By that point, it’s been a couple of years since Sam left and some months since he started ignoring Dean’s calls.

Dean takes a walk around the campus, chats up a couple of girls who might be Sam’s classmates. They tell him about a bar the law students frequent and when night falls, Dean decides to check it out.

Sam’s already there when he arrives, sitting with a bunch of kids his age. There’s a gorgeous blonde next to him, leaning against his side, and although some other dude is trying to catch her attention it seems she’s only got eyes for Sam. Dean smiles proudly to himself – it’s about time Sam got some game.

He’s just about to leave again when Sam spots him. They stare at each other for a moment, frozen, some inscrutable expression passing over Sam’s face. Then he’s turning away.

Pretending he didn’t see Dean.

Dean flees. He feels like an idiot; driving all day to get here, lying to Dad about where he was going, only for Sam to completely blow him off. Not that he planned on letting Sam know he was in town, but he sure as hell wouldn’t have expect this reaction if he found out.

Out of spite, Dean goes to a nearby gay bar and goes home with the first hot guy who approaches him.

It’s the first time he lets a man fuck him, and it’s so mind-blowingly good that Dean almost forgets to be angry. He doesn’t forget to leave the guy Sam’s phone number, though.


	3. Chapter 3

After Tyler, the topic of Dean’s sexuality doesn’t come up again between him and Sam for a good decade.

Before Stanford, Sam does his best to ignore it. It’s not until he’s enrolled and making friends there that he comes into contact with openly gay and bi people for the first time in his life. He sometimes considers bringing it up when Dean calls, but it’s just easier not to. If Dean is bi – which seems to be the case – then he’s clearly a lot more into women and Sam wouldn’t be doing him any favors by trying to make him talk about it.

He gets a phone call once from a guy who seems to think he’s Dean, wanting to meet up again (the phrasing he uses is a lot more graphic, but Sam would rather not think about it). It’s only a few days after Sam saw Dean for the first time in two years, so he doubts it’s a coincidence. He’s not sure what Dean means by it, though, so he elects to ignore that, too.

He doesn’t see or speak to Dean again until Dad disappears. Then Jess is dead, and Sam’s life is falling apart.

*

They meet Cassie, and Sam takes the opportunity.

“So she’s your ex-girlfriend,” he says, and from the way Dean is already glaring at him he knows he’s being extremely transparent. He soldiers on anyway. “Any ex-boyfriends?”

Dean looks away, turning his glare to the wall, and Sam is honestly a little surprised the paint doesn’t start peeling from the force of it. “Don’t be stupid.”

“But-”

“Sam,” Dean warns, and that’s that. End of discussion. Sam’s not sure if he’s frustrated or relieved.

*

He tries again after Dean makes the deal.

Dean’s attitude is different but he doesn’t seem any more willing to discuss it.

“The way I see it, I’ve got one year left,” Dean tells Sam. “I can spend it crying and talking about my feelings, or I can have some goddamn fun.”

“You’re not gonna go to hell,” Sam says, and the conversation turns away from Dean’s sexuality into yet another fight about his unwillingness to fight for his life.

Sam gives up after that. If Dean doesn’t want to talk about it, then he’s not gonna force him.

It doesn’t come up again for several years.

*

Cas has been dead for two months. Dean is drinking more and sleeping worse than ever, and Sam can’t even help him because he’s barely keeping it together himself. The best he can do is haul him off to bed when Dean drinks himself into a stupor.

One such night, Dean wakes up while Sam is pulling off his shoes.

“I miss ‘im.”

Sam startles, dropping Dean’s foot. He looks up, at Dean propped against the headboard, blinking slowly as his eyes fill with tears.

“Hey,” Sam says softly, sitting down on the mattress next to him. “It’s okay.”

Dean shakes his head. “‘S not. He’s gone, Sammy.”

He looks so broken, so defeated, and Sam can barely look at him. Dean has always been the stronger of the two of them, and no matter how often it’s happened in these miserable past six years Sam can’t handle seeing him cry.

“Never even told him…” Dean’s voice breaks, and he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “I think he knew, but I should’ve told him.”

Sam knows he shouldn’t. Dean would never tell him this while he was sober, and if he remembers this tomorrow he’s gonna be pissed at the both of them for this conversation. “Told him what?”

“Y’know.” Dean laughs, the sound of it hollow and pained. “Bout being in love with him. But he knew.” He nods to himself, lips set in a determined line for a moment before crumbling again. “He knew, didn’t he?”

“Of course he did,” Sam tells him instinctively, even as his head swims with this revelation.

It feels like he just caught his big brother and his supposed friend making out on the couch in their apartment all over again. It _shouldn’t_ be as big a shock, but Sam never saw this coming. Cas was Dean’s _best friend_ , not his… whatever they actually were to each other.

Sam glances over at Dean, who’s fallen back asleep, head lolling to the side and mouth hanging open as he snores softly. Sam gets up, adjusting Dean so he’s lying on his side, covers him with a blanket and then stumbles to his own bed.

He knew Dean wasn’t straight, of course. It’s just that for all he knows, Dean’s only been with the two men, and both of those were years ago. There’s certainly never been any hint of more while he’s been around Sam.

Except, apparently, there was, and Sam was just too dense to notice.

God. How many more secrets has Dean been keeping from him?

 

Come morning, Sam decides to wait and see if Dean brings Cas up again. It becomes evident pretty soon that Dean doesn’t remember anything from the night before, and Sam considers the matter dropped. Bringing it up now would only hurt Dean more.

*

They’re on a case in Wichita, and the name Tyler Brooks comes up on a list of witnesses.

Sam reads it a couple of times, making sure he’s got it right, before handing the file off to Dean. He can tell the moment Dean spots Tyler’s name, because his eyes suddenly still and he draws in a sharp breath.

“It’s not necessarily him,” Sam says.

Two years on, he’s not sure if Dean and Cas are actually together or not – neither one of them has mentioned anything to him – but if they are, Dean might feel awkward about interrogating his ex.

Dean lets out a forced laugh. “You’d be relieved, wouldn’t you Sammy?”

Sam frowns, stung by the hostility in Dean’s voice. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying.” Dean shrugs, closing the file. “You didn’t exactly get along.”

“I was a dumb, homophobic kid,” Sam says defensively. “You know I don’t have any problem with gay people now.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, and Sam feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him.

“I _don’t_ ,” he reiterates. “Hell, I’ve been trying to get you to open up about your sexuality for years now.”

“What?” Dean says incredulously. “You brought it up like _twice_ since you got back from Stanford, and once you were just making fun of me.”

 “What the hell, Dean? I never did that!”

“Oh, so what was that you pulled at Cassie’s?”

Sam gapes at his brother. All these years, Dean thought he was mocking him? That he looked down on him for not being straight? How could Dean _think_ that?

Dean’s expression softens. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you don’t hate gay people or anything. You’ve always been cool to Charlie. But just admit that in my case, it makes you uncomfortable and that’s why you haven’t tried harder to talk to me about it.”

“It doesn’t- I don’t-” Sam tries, but he can’t muster up the right words.

Dean hands him the file back, and leaves without another word. Sam can only stare after him. He’s wrong.

Isn’t he?

 

It’s a different Tyler Brooks. This one is at least a decade too young. Sam decides to put the whole thing aside until the case is over, and Dean doesn’t bring it up either so he must have reached a similar conclusion.

A couple of days later, they’ve wrapped everything up and are heading back to the bunker, and Sam figures it’s now or never.

“You were right,” he tells Dean.

Dean actually turns off the music. “I’m sorry, what?”

Sam rolls his eyes but Dean deserves to hear it, so he repeats himself, “You were right. About me being uncomfortable with it.”

“Told you,” Dean says, but he doesn’t sound particularly triumphant. Not that Sam can blame him.

“It’s not because you’re not straight,” Sam continues. “It’s just… it’s a part of you that you never wanted me to find out about. And I acted like an asshole when I did.”

Dean shifts in his seat. “You were just a dumb kid.”

“But I should have said something later,” Sam says. “I mean, I did try, but I should have tried harder. I was afraid of saying something stupid and hurting you again. It was easier to just… not say anything.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. They drive in silence for a little while, until Dean remembers to turn the music back on.

They’re approaching the bunker when Dean finally speaks again.

“While we’re on the topic,” he says. “Cas and I are sorta…”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Dean looks sharply at Sam, swerving the car slightly as he does. “ _What_.”

“You told me you loved him,” Sam admits. “Back when Cas died. The third time,” he then has to clarify, because their lives are just that ridiculous. “But you were drunk off your ass.”

“Jesus, Sam, how long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Look, I didn’t know for sure if you were together. I was waiting for you to tell me.”

“Didn’t we just have this conversation?”

Sam snorts. “I guess so. But, uh,” he fidgets, feeling a little awkward despite himself. Dean really was spot on when he said this topic made him uncomfortable, wasn’t he? But Sam doesn’t want to be. He wants to do better. “You can tell me if there’s anything else. I won’t judge or make fun, promise.”

“I hooked up with Benny in Purgatory,” Dean says flatly.

“What the _fuck_.”

“Hey, you said no judgment!”

“You slept with a vampire,” Sam sputters. “I’m sorry, but vampire trumps guy.”

“Look who’s talking! Remind me which one of us was shacking it up with a demon for a whole year?”

Sam shuts his mouth after that. Some things you just can’t argue with.

 

Cas drops by the bunker a couple of days later. He looks surprised but pleased when Dean greets him with a kiss, right in front of Sam.

It’s still a little surreal to watch Dean kissing another man, but it’s also good to see him so obviously happy.

Cas stays the night, and they make no secret of him spending it in Dean’s bedroom. The next morning he’s in the kitchen, pouring himself coffee when Sam gets back from his run.

“Dean is still asleep,” he tells Sam. “It always tires him out when we…”

He trails off, looking a little unsure, and as happy as Sam is for the two of them he’s relieved Cas isn’t gonna start talking about their sex life with him.

“You love him, right?”

Sam doesn’t mean to ask, but the words are out before he can stop them.

“Of course,” Cas says, simply, like he’s never been surer of anything. Sam realizes then that he probably hasn’t been.

“Good.” Sam nods to himself. And since he’s already pursuing this line of questioning, “You’re not leaving again, are you?”

“Not if Dean wants me to stay. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Sam blinks, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. “Uh, sure.”

They’re both sitting by the kitchen counter, sipping their coffee when Dean stumbles into the room, wearing his dead guy robes and a pair of slippers. He accepts a cup from Cas and leans into it when Cas presses a kiss against his cheek. Sam’s never seen him this relaxed before.

It’s strange, alright, but given enough time Sam knows he’ll get used to it. This version of Dean is the happiest Sam’s seen him since he can remember.

Some part of Sam – the self-loathing part – can’t help but wonder if Dean wouldn’t have been this happy much sooner if he’d been more accepting. Maybe what he had with Tyler really could have gone somewhere.

Except, no, it couldn’t have. Even if Sam had been cool, Dad sure as hell never would have been. And in the end, the road they took still lead them to this kitchen. To Cas making them coffee and asking Sam about his morning run and kissing Dean’s cheek when he drags himself out of bed, finally learning at age thirty-six how to sleep in.

It’s not what Sam expected, but it’s good. They’re good.


End file.
